Sunna - A Prayer to the Sun Goddess

As the days grow shorter - we can pray to Sunna, to Sol, the SunGoddess of the cold North. She knows well how every ray is worth it's weight in gold. Fire hair flowing, as she drives her sunchariot over the sky - day after day.

Be at ease. The wolves may chase her, but she wins the race. Every day takes skill and effort. Every day is precious. 

It is said that the skywolves will catch up with her one day, and eat the sun so there is no more day. But that Sunna has given birth to a daughter - shining bright and new - who will light up the world once again.

Perhaps this happens every year. Surely Sunna, or Sunna her daughter will return after the darkest day.

Give a prayer in any case. Because thankfulness to any force is never lost. Our hearts expand, and we shine brighter, when we remember that many fight hard to keep the universe moving in endless balance -in whatever form we wish to perceive them. Just as Sunna steers her chariot over the sky - day after day.

Photoart by Sofia Karin Axelsson

Odin - God of Wisdom

Wisdom, such a funny thing. Easy to chop up pieces, and put under glass cages, to be admired - between collegues - in dusty museums.

"Wisdom is what works," says Pinkola Clarissa Estés.
A wise lady indeed.

"Wisdom is what works," I say, "and then take us further."

I don't want to be an image of a god, made out of petrified wood, placed on an elevated throne. I want to move, I want to roam, to explore, to find new homes.

I don't want to be a carrier of stale, old tales. Only if you make the tales alive, will I borrow you my strength.

Let words fly high. Don't use them to drag you down to the dry and crusty ground.

Curiosity is all. Don't hold me back, don't hold me still.

I move towards the corners of the worlds, that still expands, that still thrills.

One-eyed I am, and the metaphor is this: if you don't sacrafice your old sight - you see very little.

Photograph: "Odin's Eye," by Sofia Karin Axelsson.

Freja - the Force from Within

No holding back - when Freja captures your soul, and flares you open from within. It's all pain from now on.

War Goddess. Protect what you love. No one can care for your innermost passions but you.

Love Goddess. Love what you protect. And when the right person comes along - you don't have to hold on anymore. To share what you love - enriches all.

Goddess of magic. Sorceress. All - knower. From the roots of the world tree, she draws the life force. To hold life force in body, is great magic indeed. Directing it - changes everything.

Goddess of life and death. At the edge of the void, only life carries us on. We cut, we blaze, we bleed, we die. Through it all she's walking close - close to you and me.

Closest of gods. Lover of humans. Inviting us to get warm by the seidr fire. Melting our frozen doubts. Catching the drops in her motherly hands. Burning our hearts - until we take our stand.

The Runes Are Dancing

The runes are dancing.


Vibrating.

Waiting to be yours.

For you to step into them. For them to be embraced by you.

They don't care if you can pronounce them correctly in Old Icelandi, while hanging up side down in an old ash tree. They don't care if you read every verse of the stories once told by the night fires burning.

They care only of this:

That you know how to carry them inside of you. That you know how to feel them - how to be them.

To be them. Then your theirs. Then they are yours.

Most powerful, ancient signs. As are all signs. As are all letters. As are all languages.

Every sign drawn, every letter written, every word spoken, every sentence woven - shoots out roots and arrows, shoots out threads of good or ill.

Watch every word you write and speak. Play with the runes if you will. They teach respect for the expressed - for spoken and unspoken words just the same.

Loving, breathing, pulsating building blocks of worlds. 

The runes are dancing - always dancing. Dance with them if you wish.

Illustrations Sofia Karin Axelsson

Towards a New Form of Leadership

Article published in Edge Magazine - "Towards a New Form of Leadership."

"Leadership has become a slightly suspicious term over the years. From an elegant term full of responsibility and capability, many people today associate leadership with misuse of power and corruption. The more anarchistically inclined may have come to the conclusion that the time for leaders is gone, that we are now all our own leaders, and we don’t need any guidance in any area, be it political, social, moral or spiritual." ... more

Thanks to Edge Magazine for publishing me. Always a joy.

Skadi - Goddess of the Oldest Magic

Frost. She comes from the mountains, with the scent of snow yet
not fallen embracing her. Embracing us - no more summer

bouncing growth. It's time to take aim. Bow and arrows on her back. Visions in her eyes: visons of witches, visions of women, visions of brave men of the new world. She takes us for long walks. Urges us on to take long strides.

Goddess of crescent moon, sharp and tangible. Easy to cut your fingers on. Bleed if you need to.

Find your prey and stalk it silently. Patience overflows. In silence we find what has been untold. That she's of giantess race. That she comes with the oldest magic.

Bright white and shadowy gray. Skadi means shadow. She makes us walk with them: our untold stories, our forgotten selves. Let them walk side by side. Harming none, now that they are seen, From them we weave stronger dreams, the rest we throw in the stream.

With summer gone, she rules us all: shadow and light, crisp views unfold. We can see, we take aim, we hold on to the whole, just barley touching the ground - as we move forward.